The Last Weasley
by Dialux
Summary: When the war shatters everything he has ever known, Ronald Weasley responds with action and meets a glorious end.


You are a warrior. The only Weasley to survive the Second Wizarding War.

You are the reason your friends have survived for how long they have.

You are the one who pulls them back from the brink of madness time and time and _damn _time again.

You save them and others, and you watch your dreams and friends and family fall apart all around you.

But you can't dwell on that. You must focus on what you _can _save.

Fred and George were the first to fall. They went out in the giant blaze of glory they had always wanted.

Bill was transformed, under Wolfsbane, and he, Fleur, and twenty goblins went down fighting so fiercely that Lord Voldemort himself was brought to finish them. Voldemort lost one of his hands, apparently, to Bill.

Charlie broke into Gringotts exactly one month later, and rescued the dragon under the Vaults. Apparently the damage done to Gringotts, Diagon Alley, and the Ministry had been too much that they _still _hadn't taken care of it all.

Your Dad and Mum are the deaths you still regret every moment. You remember standing in front of their graves, a single sprig of Jasmine- Mum's favorite- in your hands, your chest hurting so bad you couldn't believe you had ever felt anything else.

That pain is a part of your life, as much as your magic, your wand, your mind.

But your parents died fighting to protect the Burrow. And the wards you've placed around it make sure that no one, not a single person, will ever enter it again if they don't have Weasley blood.

Percy is the death you will never forget. It happened right in front of your eyes. He was killed by Voldemort himself.

You never knew he could fight that well.

You never knew a lot of things about him.

And Ginny, oh, sweet, innocent, _dangerous _Ginny. She is the one person, the one death you always, every moment of every day, remember.

You remember it because she died protecting you. She chose death for herself so you could survive.

And the monster in your chest rises every day you sit and watch Harry and Hermione plan.

And then, one morning, you know what you will do. It was written in the stars and sang in your blood. It was as normal a day as you could expect.

You thought something would have changed. You have decided, after all, something that can either kill or save you.

You leave the safety of the wards.

And you begin casting. You do not bother with the small spells which will stop them for some time.

You lash out with everything you have. The Unforgivables, everything.

And Voldemort comes, as you had hoped.

And you fight. You fight with every breath and every bone and every hair in your body. Even though Harry is the Boy-Who-Lived, and Hermione is the Smartest-Witch-of-her-Age, you are the one with the Weasley blood. And Weasley's are loyal to the ends of the earth.

And you will, at the very least, damage this man who has shattered your family.

By Merlin, you do.

For the one thing Harry has that Voldemort doesn't is the Weasley's.

And Weasley's are loyal to the marrow of their bones.

You stand, in a circle of Death Eaters and Voldemort. You stand, bleeding, almost broken. But there is one thing you can do, one thing that no other family would have thought of, that no other family, even if they thought it, wouldn't have had reason to.

Because they are not Weasley's, who are loyal to the one they pledge to.

The power he has not- the Weasleys.

You begin the ritual. Hermione might help, you think in the small part of you that isn't screaming in pain or locked in concentration, Hermione would know what to do. Harry would have come riding in, and saved you.

But you have made sure that only you can do this. You have placed a sleeping charm on them. They will not come.

You are alone.

And you say, "By the blood of the Phoenixes in my veins," for that is the story, that you have descended from the Phoenixes and that is why you still have the red hair, "the loyalty in my soul," and that is the fulcrum- strange word from Hermione- upon which this ritual spins, "the freedom in my mind," the ritual depended on the free will of the person doing it- it couldn't be for any reason other than loyalty and love to the Savior, "and the love in my heart, I offer me freely. I offer blood, soul, mind, and heart. I offer Light, loyalty, freedom, and love."

Your magic swirls up, higher, higher. It doesn't have the lightness Hermione's does- the surgical precision that comes from her need for perfection, nor does it have the power that Harry's does.

But you have what you have. And you will defeat Voldemort today, with blood and bone and breath. You_ will_ destroy him. You will shatter him as he shattered as he shattered your family.

Even now, he doesn't understand that you are defeating him. So few know that the person who defeated the last Dark Lord wasn't a Potter or a Dumbledore or a Bones. It was a Weasley, who had married into a different family, but still carried that ritual in her heart.

You are her descendant. You will do what you must, use the weapons you have.

And you finish the ritual, seal both Voldemort and your faith.

"By the magic in me, I freely shatter what is Dark. By the hands of Time and Destiny, I shatter the evil in this land. By the strength of my actions, past, present, and future, I break you!"

Light spills forth from your body, reaching across the circle to Voldemort. And you rise higher, spinning higher and faster and lighter than you ever imagined magic could. But Voldemort is doing the same, and he is terrifying in his fury.

But your free sacrifice is pushing any and all Dark magic away from him. And you see the tiny justifications that come from his mind for killing and torturing fade away in the justice you have enacted.

And the world is come undone.

And you close your eyes and hope Hermione and Harry forgive what you have done.

And you breathe.

And you let go, and let the blood of the last Weasley of the earth burn into the Earth with the flames of Phoenix fire.


End file.
